There and Back
by Queen of Kaos
Summary: Ryan and Seth are invited to take a trip down memory lane by women from their pasts. Can Marissa and Summer convince them to return to the present? Or will they spend their futures alone?
1. You Are Cordially Invited

"What about this one?"

Kirsten Cohen took a sip of her morning coffee and looked at the picture that her son's girlfriend, Summer Roberts, had slid across the table. Nodding, she considered it. "It's nice. It's kind of a mute color," she critiqued.

Summer looked at the photo again, her head to the side. "It is kinda drab, isn't it?" Tossing it ito the "Don't" pile, Summer perused another page of the portfolio before her. Choosing the right fashion was hard.

"What about this one, Marissa?" Kirsten asked as Marissa Cooper extended her thin arm to accept the photo. "It's tasteful and elegant and still a little edgy."

Marissa looked over the photo. She had to admit, her boyfriend's "almost mom" had exquisite taste in fashion. But Marissa turned her head to one side and scrutinized the gown. "I don't know, though. It's kinda fluffy at the bottom. Don't you think it'll make my ass look huge?" Summer and Kirsten both shot her withering looks. "What?" she asked innocently. "I'm not allowed to have body image issues?"

Summer shook her head and continued to search the collection before her. "Not with those legs," she said distractedly.

"They are great legs," came a voice from behind the girls.

Turning, they saw Ryan Atwood and Seth Cohen standing near the sliding glass door. Approaching, Ryan slid his arms around his girlfriend and looked over her shoulder. "What's all this?" he asked, dropping a kiss on her neck.

Marissa relaxed against his chest – no matter how many vacations she went on and how many resorts she stayed in, she would never feel as safe or happy as she did in this place, in his arms. She sighed and breathed in his freshly-showered scent. "Hmm," she sighed, pointing to the photos on the counter top. "Kirsten's helping us pick out our dresses for the Festival of Fashion."

"The Festival of Fashion?" Ryan asked, letting go of her waist as he set off in search of a coffee cup.

Summer gave a huff and a hard look toward the clueless outsider at the coffee pot. "It's, like, the biggest event of the year," she insisted. Ryan raised an eyebrow in her direction. "It's Newport's equivalent of Fashion Week?" Still, he gave her a blank look.

But before Summer could sink into an infamous rage blackout, Seth jumped into the conversation. "Let me see if I can put this into words you can understand, my friend. Bunch of Newpsies, bunch of expensive clothes, bunch of drooling, maybe some catfights," he stopped and looked at his mom, and then his girlfriend, before casting his gaze back at his friend. "Ya know what? Nevermind. It's exactly like every other event." He accepted the mug that Ryan was offering. "So, when does this fastidious frenzy of fashion fun take place?"

Summer was currently studying a Versace gown, so Kirsten answered her son's question. "It's next weekend, Seth," she said.

Seth's eyes grew wide, and he shook his head frantically. "Next weekend? Summer, that's Death Cab in San Diego. We've had tickets for two months."

Rolling her eyes, Summer slid a photo toward Kirsten. "We've seen Death Cab, like, five times, Cohen."

Kirsten nodded and slid it back to her. But Seth didn't care about stupid fashion and designer dresses. "And this stupid thing happens every year, so you've seen it, what? Ten? Twelve times?"

"Yes, but I can't wear this," she turned and leaned against the counter, holding up a photo of a revealing, silky, slip dress, "to Death Cab, can I?"

Seth swallowed the lump of shock that was rising in his throat. "Sure, you can. Who's stopping you?"

Kirsten rolled her eyes and started to say something, when Sandy came in with a stack of paper in his hands. "Mail call," he announced. "Bills," he rolled his eyes and dropped two envelopes on the island in front of him. "Ryan," he held out an envelope to the young man at the end of the island. "Sale papers," he handed those to Kirsten. "More bills," he groaned. "Seth."

"You got mail?" Summer asked, trying to peer over his shoulder as he opened the card. "Awe, it's so cute," she gushed, reaching out to take the invitation from her boyfriend's hand.

"What is it, Seth?" Kirsten asked.

Summer answered for him. "It's an invitation to a reunion at his old summer camp," she giggled, holding the little card up for everyone to see.

"Ah, Camp Tacaho?" Sandy asked.

Kirsten took the card from Summer. "That sounds like fun, Sweetie."

"Sure," Seth agreed. "When I was, like, twelve. I've matured though, Mother. I have a girlfriend now, and tickets to Death Cab, and actual friends to go with me. Camp Tacaho is a distant memory."

Sandy nodded. If Seth didn't want to go, there was no point in continuing the conversation – he wouldn't go. "What about yours Ryan? What'd you get?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Ryan stood, shoved his mail into his back pocket, and moved his coffee cup toward the dishwasher. "It's, um, it's not that important," he said. "It's, um," he shook his head. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"I've scheduled a whole day of nothing but playstation," Seth informed, ignoring Summer's rolling eyes. "You're welcome to join me, my friend."

But Ryan shook his head. "Nah – I've got a lot of homework to do," he said, shaking his head as he slipped out of the house and moved toward his own dwelling. He was almost to the door when he heard her voice.

"So, you gonna tell me what's going on?"

Ryan pushed the pool house door open and waited for Marissa to follow. He hated talking about things like this. He hated talking about his feelings with her. He hated talking about his feelings with anyone. "It's not that bigga deal, Marissa. It's just a birthday party invitation," he groaned, pulling the card out of his pocket and throwing it on the table.

Marissa picked it up. It was shaped like a soccer ball, with jagged handwriting inside. "Who's TJ?" she asked.

Ryan shifted uncomfortably before falling onto his bed. "Do you swear not to make a big deal out of this if I tell you. Because it's not a big deal," he warned.

Sinking to the bed, Marissa took his hand in hers. She was convinced that someday, maybe, Ryan would trust her with his secrets, with his emotions. But they weren't there yet, after two years, and she was starting to feel a bit discouraged. "You can tell me anything. You know that."

Rolling his neck, he spoke, "TJ is my nephew."

Her face dropped slightly, but she recovered quite seamlessly. "I didn't know. . . um, that. . . you have a nephew?"

"He's Trey's kid," Ryan added numbly. Truth be told, he hadn't even really thought about TJ in a few years, not since the "incident." And he wasn't sure why now, after all this time, his mom was sending Ryan an invitation to his birthday party. It didn't make sense.

"I had no idea," Marissa breathed, letting go of Ryan's hand as her gaze drifted over the room at random. "I mean, he's in jail."

Ryan let out a slight chuckle and then shrugged. "Yeah, well, that happens to dads sometimes," he reminded her.

Cringing inwardly, she scolded herself for saying something so stupid. Of course it did – it had happened to his dad, hadn't it? Dammit, Marissa, think. "Sorry," she whispered.

He put his finger under her chin, held her face close to his, and then offered her a smile. "Don't worry about it," he whispered, kissing her softly.

Marissa wound her arms around his neck and fell back on the bed, reveling again in the feeling of Ryan's arms around her, their legs tangled together, his breath on her neck as he trailed kisses to her collarbone. She wondered, after more than two years of doing this, being this close, how he still made her feel so wobbly and unsettled. It must have been love that made her stomach teeter on the edge of nausea every time he touched her.

After nearly an hour of rolling around on his bed, alternating between light conversation and deep kisses, Marissa cast her eyes to the bedside clock. "Are you hungry?" she asked. Ryan nodded. "We could go to the Crab Shack?"

"Yeah, let's do that," he agreed, rolling off of the bed and offering her a hand.

As she sat on the edge of the bed, wrestling with a tennis shoe, Marissa tucked her hair behind her ear and looked up through thick lashes at her boyfriend. "Ya know, if you want, I'll go to Chino with you next weekend."

Shoving his wallet in his back pocket, Ryan gave her a nervous laugh. "Um, that's very thoughtful. We're not exactly close, though, Marissa."

She nodded. "I get that. But they are your family," she reminded. "And if they want you around," she trailed off. Sometimes she wished her family wanted her around.

But Ryan just kissed her and pulled her to her feet. "They're Trey's family – who he told me to stay away from a long time ago," he insisted, kissing the tip of her nose and drawing a giggle. "Besides, we have San Diego next weekend, right? We'll do the concert thing, and then Seth and I got hotel rooms. So, you? Me? Hotel in San Diego? What do you say?"

Marissa pulled a sweater over her thin shoulders and led him by the hand toward the driveway. "Sounds like you've got it all planned, huh?" Ryan nodded. "Too bad I'm staying here for the Festival of Fashion with Summer and Kirsten." She stopped at the door of the Range Rover while he unlocked it. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled his face close to hers. "I'm spending my weekend in an incredibly sexy, totally amazing dress," she informed, kissing him again.

Ryan pulled back and licked his lips, a lazy look in his eyes. "You do know that's not enough to make me stay in town, right? I'm not going to a glorified fashion show just because you'll be all hot and amazing. I'm not as easy as Seth."

She took one baby step, pressing her body against his and sliding her arms down his back. Ryan's body gave an involuntary shudder. "Oh, you're pretty easy," she laughed.

"Oh, yeah?" Ryan asked, his lips finding hers one more time.

Sure, his family was in Chino. But his life was in Newport, with Marissa and the Cohens. Nothing was going to change that. Not even Trey.


	2. Voices from the Past

"Dude, sit," Seth patted the couch beside him as he started a new game on the Playstation. "I'll kick your ass," he offered.

Ryan flopped down next to his friend and shrugged his shoulders, grasping the controller in his hands. "You say that every time," he said, his voice tired and barely above a whisper.

Seth nodded and started the game, his eyes focused on the task at hand. "Yeah, buddy, I know. But someday, it's gonna be true. And you won't know when, you won't see it coming. It's just going to sneak up on you, and before you know it, Ryan, you will have experienced an ass-kicking of epic video game proportions."

Ryan gave him a side-long look and then turned his eyes back to the screen. "It is too early in the morning for your bull shit," he growled.

They had played two full games by the time Kirsten and Sandy made their way to the kitchen. "Morning," Sandy called out. He got two grunts in response before the telephone rang.

"Are you sure you want to do this again?" Ryan asked as Seth restarted the game again.

"Ryan," Sandy called, rounding the corner. "Telephone."

Standing and tossing his controller onto the couch, Ryan took the phone and sat at the kitchen table. "Hello?"

"Hey, little brother," Trey's voice sounded on the other end of the line.

He tried to cover his shock. His brother had been in jail for more than two years, and Ryan hadn't heard from in what felt like an eternity. "Hey," was all he could manage to force out over the knot in his throat.

There was an awkward silence. If Trey was expecting this to be easy, Ryan was proving him incredibly wrong. "So," he finally said, clearing his throat. "I just had a question for ya," he said.

Ryan traced a non-existent circle on the table, well aware that Kirsten was watching him from the island and the guys in the living room were probably eavesdropping, as well. "Oh, okay," he answered.

"Did you get your invite to TJ's birthday party?"

Ryan nearly choked. When TJ was born, nearly six years ago, Trey had wigged and broken up with his mom, Cassie. Ryan couldn't turn his back on them, though. They were his family – and he had willingly baby-sat his nephew so Cassie could work. He had been there when the kid took his first steps and said his first words. He loved the small boy as though he were the father TJ had never known.

"Good," Trey's voice brought him back. "Cassie was kinda worried, ya know? She got your address from Ma," he chuckled. "So, not the most reliable source, ya know? And when she didn't hear back from you," he rambled on.

"I got it," Ryan interrupted, his voice clipped. He hadn't meant to be snippy, but the last time he and Trey had a discussion about TJ, Trey insisted that his little brother butt out of the kid's life. He said that Ryan was making him look like the bad guy by spending all of his time and attention with the family Trey had abandoned. And Ryan had agreed to back off.

"Glad to hear it. 'Cause I know it would mean a lot to Cassie if you could make it, at least for a little while."

He sat, staring at the table, in absolute confusion. "I thought you wanted me to stay away from them," he muttered, his voice completely devoid of any emotion.

There was another silence, and Trey cleared his throat. "Things are different now, man. Cassie's been bringing TJ up on Sundays, we hang out like a family. We're tryin' to work things out," he stopped and took a deep breath. "Listen, I was supposed to get a day pass for the big event or whatever, but things didn't really swing my way, so. . ."

"I don't know, man," Ryan cut him off, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't really belong there anymore, ya know?"

Trey scoffed. "Come on, Ry," he coaxed. "This is your family – your roots. You just gonna turn your back on us for your great new life?"

He couldn't say "no." Ryan knew that he couldn't say "no" to Trey, to his family. If he never returned to Chino, never saw any of the people from the old neighborhood, he was really just pretending that he belonged in Newport, wasn't he? "Look, I'll call Cassie later today, okay?"

"Thanks, little brother," Trey said before hanging up.

Standing from the table, Ryan let out a deep sigh and made his way back to the living room. He lowered himself to the couch beside Seth and resumed his game. "So, I guess I need to talk to you about San Diego," he said.

Seth paused the game and shook his head, his eyes wide. "Um, no, you don't. You don't need to talk to me because you are not just bailing on me. Not now," he insisted.

Ryan felt guilty. He had promised Seth that he would be glad to go to the Death Cab concert weeks ago. And he really had looked forward to going, even if Marissa wasn't going to be there. But he couldn't get out of this one. "I have to, man."

Before Seth could say anything else, Kirsten stood in front of the television. "Seth – phone," she said, handing him the cordless telephone.

Seth appeared confused. No one ever called him, not even Summer. She usually came over and harped on him in person. "Um, hello?" he answered nervously.

"Seth Cohen?"

The voice was sweet and feminine. "Yeah?" was all he said – it wasn't anyone he knew. And if there was anything Seth Cohen didn't understand, it was strange women calling his home for conversation.

"It's Sara Spielman."

His face broke out into a wide smile as he stood and moved toward his bedroom. "Sarah, my God. How, um, how are you?"

She giggled slightly. "I'm great. How are you?"

He nodded as he pushed his bedroom door open and flopped onto the bed. "I'm actually quite fantastic," he said. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call? It's been, what, three years?"

"Five," Sara answered. "But I just got this invitation to a Camp Tacaho Alumni Reunion," she said.

"Ah, yes," Seth nodded his head, his eyes smiling as Summer made her way into the room. "I got my invitation on Monday," he told the girl on the line while his girlfriend made a strange face at him and went to the CD rack on his desk top.

"Are you going?" Sara asked, her voice hopeful.

Seth cleared his throat. The sound of her voice tweaked a slight string of hesitation he had over his decision to avoid the camp. "Um, no. No, I'm not, not going to, to be able to go," he answered.

Summer turned, her eyes narrowed in anger. The hand hit the hip, and Seth started to assure her that everything was fine, when Sara started to speak again. "Dammit. I thought maybe we could hang together again."

"Are you going?" he asked, standing and turning his back on Summer. He couldn't look her in the eye with Sara's voice in his ear.

"Trust me, I don't want to. I was supposed to road trip to San Diego for a Death Cab concert, but . . ."

"Shut up!" Seth exclaimed. "I have tickets to that show," he laughed. "Except everyone seems to be bailing on me."

"Yeah? Then maybe you could come to Tacaho? Keep me company?"

Her voice was so smooth now, so mature. It was as if he could see her cute little nose in his mind's eye, and her long, curly hair, and her braces. He knew she had probably changed since they were twelve, but the thought of this voice coming out of the Sara he knew was too much. "I don't know. I mean, there's this fashion thing," he started to explain, turning back to smile at Summer. She was sitting at his desk, her arms crossed, staring out the window.

"Fashion? Seth Cohen, did you sell out on me?" Sara accused. "Come on, man. I here there will be a rousing game of Capture the Flag, and maybe some tapioca pudding."

"I do love the pudding," Seth sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"And you are the Capture the Flag master, Seth. Come on. Don't leave me with all those freaks and geeks all by myself," Sara begged.

"Sara? We are those freaks and geeks, ya know?" he reminded, sinking to the bed again.

"True. Don't you ever get tired of pretending your not one, though? I mean, don't you ever just wish things were simple again? Like they were when we were twelve?"

Seth watched Summer turn in his chair and examine her manicure. He did wish he was back at Tacaho again. Until he talked to Sara, he didn't realize how much he had missed it, though. "Ya know what? Yes." Summer's head snapped up, her face baring an expression of fear. "I'll see you next weekend."

"Awesome. Thank you so much, Seth. I owe you. I promise, you're not going to regret this at all," Sara sputtered before hanging up the phone.

Seth clicked the phone off and smiled at his girlfriend. A smile seemed like the furthest thing from her mind. "So, Summer, you'll be happy to know I'm not going to San Diego," he quipped.

With a hand on her hip, she wiggled a finger in his face. "Seth Cohen, who the hell was that?" she demanded.

This had to be handled delicately. The wrong word could end his happy relationship for good, and possibly his hearing or vision. "Um, it was an old friend. Ya know what, not even a friend, really. It was just this girl that I used to know at summer camp."

"And you're going to this stupid reunion thing to be with her?" she asked, her voice trembling in a mixture of hurt and anger. "What the hell?"

Seth put his hands on Summer's shoulders and sat her back down on the bed. "Summer, you are my girlfriend, the one that I want to be with all the time. You are the only girl I want. Sara is just a friend, like Ryan. Not even like Ryan, because I haven't seen her in six years and we used to only see each other once a year before that. You have nothing to worry about."

She stood. "Who said I was worried?" She stomped her foot as he angled his head and shot her a smile. "You go to your stupid summer camp and I'll go to the Festival of Fashion, and we won't even miss each other," she pouted, turning to flee the room as quickly as she had entered.

Seth laid back on the bed and wondered how this always happened to him. It started with Anna, and then there was Zack, and now? Sara. Would they ever get a chance to just fight over each other, not some third wheel? Or were they destined to be plagued by outside parties forever? And why was Seth more worried about seeing Sara than he was about how pissed Summer was at that moment?


	3. Summer Camp Skank

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews. You guys are the greatest - I appreciate all of your support more than you can know. Years of writing for no one but myself seems to be paying off, and I can't say enough about how great you all are. I wish I could give you all a personal thanks, but I don't know the protocall on that sort of thing. So, anyway, enjoy the chapter and I'll try to get more up soon. _

There was something about expensive Italian silk against her skin that made it seem as though the sun was shining just a little bit brighter. And as she stood on the tailor's stool in the middle of Kirsten's office, the sun seemed downright blinding. "I love this color," she complimented the woman pinning her dress at the bodice. The dress Kirsten had suggested was a designer original, created by an old high school friend of her's.

"It looks amazing against your skin," the man said, taking a moment to savor the bright coral against the dark tan of the woman before him. "You are going to make my dress look stunning, Miss Cooper," he added.

"Well, I kinda think it's the other way around," Marissa blushed.

The telephone on the desk rang and Kirsten stopped her survey of the fitting to answer it. At the same moment, Summer burst through the door, her arms full of shopping bags. "I got your shoes and your bag - the jewlry wasn't ready for pick up yet, and I found the cutest bra to wear with my dress," she sighed, dropping the sacks and waving at Kirsten. Her boyfriend's mom had already done more than enough, helping them choose their dresses. But now she was insisting on buying them and facilitating the necessary fittings, as well. "Oh, and I have a question for you," she pointed at Marissa. "Is Ryan going to the festival with us?"

"No," Marissa stated evenly, watching the hem of her dress being raised. "He's going to Chino to visit Cassie and TJ. You know that, Sum," she scolded softly.

With a pout, Summer dropped into an overstuffed chair and looked with huge eyes at her friend. "Do you trust him?" Marissa cast a glance at Kirsten, who had stuffed a finger in her ear to finish her own conversation, and then nodded. "Even though you know she's probably the closest thing he's ever had to love, before you, and he was telling us all those stories about how great it was to grow up with her? You still trust him?"

"What the hell, Sum?" Marissa asked, turning slightly to the left as the tailor continued his work. "Is this really about Ryan?"

Summer rolled her dark eyes. "Of course it's not about Ryan. It's about Seth and his stupid summer camp reunion thing. He wasn't going to go, but then she called, and she reminded him of all the fun they used to have and now he feels like he has to go, and blah, blah, blah," she rolled her eyes.

Marissa tried to suppress a laugh as she processed the crazy ramblings of this mad woman before her. Kirsten hung up the phone and turned her attention to them at that moment. "So, what's going on?"

With a nod toward Summer, Marissa said, "Summer's jealous of a girl that used to go to summer camp with Seth when he was, like, ten," she explained.

Kirsten nodded with understanding, but Summer just stood. "He was twelve, and do not mock my pain. You don't get it," she sighed, her hand on her hip. "Her name is Sara and she loves comic books and Death Cab and Goonies. She always used to pick Cohen first for Capture the Flag and share her tapioca pudding with him at lunch." Perching on the edge of the desk, she looked pitifully at Kirsten. "They shared pudding. How am I supposed to compete with that?"

Kirsten touched her arm gently, but thought better of offering any advice. Whatever she said would just sound like it was coming from her boyfriend's mom. Instead, she motioned for Marissa to speak. "Sum, do you love Seth?"

Summer's thin shoulders slumped as she stared at the floor, drawing some abstract shape in the carpet with her toe. "I do, Coop. I love the dumbass. And don't ask me why," she trailed off, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ears.

"We don't have to ask why," Kirsten assured her with a loving smile.

"Oh, no, we know why," Marissa added.

"Then could you clue me in? Because most days he makes me so furious, I could spit. He'll be charming and witty and generally perfect, and then he'll say something so cheesy and dorky that I could just vomit on those expensive shoes that he wears, even though he pretends they're not expensive." She turned to Kirsten. "Why does he do that? Everyone knows you guys have more money than God, but he never spends it. But I know he has it, because we went to Gucci the other day, and he bought me the cutest handbag in the world."

Marissa bit her lip to hide the smile. "Sum, you love him because he adores you. He worships you, always does what you want to do, when you want to do it. And you love him because he spends all that "rich kid" cash on anything he thinks you would remotely like."

Summer pouted and stood, stomping her foot. "Coop, you make me sound like a total gold-digging diva. I don't just love him because he pays all of his attention to me. That makes me sound selfish."

"I don't think she meant it like that, Sweetie," Kirsten encouraged, though it wasn't a completely inaccurate description. "I'm sure there are a million things that Seth could spend his money on, namely comic books and emo records. But I know Seth, probably better than either of you, and I know how he gets when he sees you smiling or laughing. I know that my son would give up every comic book he has if he could make you smile all the time. He's hopelessly devoted to you, Summer."

She shook her head, her eyes deep and sincere. No one ever got Summer's "I'm not as strong as I want you to think I am look" unless she was in a deep state of sadness. "That's not why I love him," she said, twisting her fingers together. "Well, that's part of it – the devotion and the romance and the gifts – but there's more," she shook her head and blinked back a tear that had crept up unexpectedly. It's not because of me at all, how he treats me or worships me or whatever.

"I love him because he's strong. Sure, he cries at chick flicks and he has this amazing eye for interior design. But he grew up a complete outsider, getting picked on all the time, and he never once complained about it. He just endured it, like, I don't know, some kind of Ghandi or something." She tilted her head and turned to Kirsten. "Is that the reference I'm looking for? Did Ghandi endure?"

Kirsten nodded. "Yes."

Summer shook off the thought. "He's like that. He just knows who he is, and he's not afraid to be that guy, even if no one else gets it. And that's all he wants from me, too. I mean, everyone else gets the Summer that has it all together and sits on top of the world, but Cohen doesn't want her. He wants the Summer that is scared of being rejected, who cried for an entire weekend when Holly got mad at me in seventh grade and wouldn't invite me to her sleepover. He wants the Summer that gets scared of being abandoned when my dad and stepmom fight, the one who hides in the closet with Princess Sparkle and an N Sync record, because those are the things I loved when my life was safe and stable.

"He wants the Summer that doesn't always get his vague references, who doesn't hide behind make up and designer mini-skirts. He wants me, even when I don't care about his interests or want to hear his problems. I love him because he's unlike anyone I've ever known in my life – because I don't have to try to get him to love me, he just does." She dropped into the chair again and let the tear flow down her cheeks.

Marissa was at a loss, her own tears flowing now. "Honey," Kirsten tried, "It's okay to love Seth. It's okay to feel like you do."

But Summer just sat up again stomped her foot. "I'm not crying because I love him, Kirsten. I'm crying because I'm going to lose him to that Camp Tacaho skank."

"Then you should go with him," she suggested.

Summer raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? We're talking about missing the Festival of Fashion here," she gasped.

"Sometimes, Summer," Marissa went back to stand on the stool in the center of the room, "you make sacrifices for love. You have to give up what you really want so that he gets what he needs."

Casting a glance at the bags on the floor and then her dress, hanging on the back of Kirsten's office door, she scrunched her nose. "You guys won't mind if I bail on you?"

Kirsten shook her head. "I would mind if you didn't," she said honestly.

Jumping up from her seat, Summer grasped her purse and then blew kisses to both women. "I gotta go save my man from the female version of himself."

When she was gone, Marissa and Kirsten shared a smile. "You know," Kirsten spoke in a firm tone, "that I don't mind if you want to go to Chino with Ryan."

Marissa shook her head. "I couldn't. You've already paid for these dresses. Besides, I don't think Ryan really wants company on his trip."

That's when Kirsten stood from behind her desk and moved to the young girl in the center of the room. "So you use the dress when you come back - I'll make reservations for the four of you in LA. It'll be a super-special evening, okay?" Marissa's wide smile started form. "As for him not wanting you to go - if that's what he's telling you - he's lying."

Laughter bubbled up from within Marissa's chest. She would skip all the pretentious fashion events of the weekend in favor of a relaxing time in jeans with the man she loved. This way, she could spend more time with Ryan, and keep an eye on him, as well. She hadn't lied to Summer, she did trust him. But that didn't mean she trusted anyone else who might set their sights on him. And she had yet to meet anyone from Chino who didn't set their sights on Ryan Atwood.

_A/N: I'm going to try to update a few more chapters on this story this weekend, but I'm sort of hitting a wall on this story. I might put up a one-shot or two while I'm working through the block, but I promise I won't quit writing all together. _


	4. A GREAT Weekend

"So?"

Ryan shot a look at Marissa and then resumed his study of the house before them. It was small, but well-kept, not nearly as run down as some of the other Chino houses he had shown her. "I don't know if this is such a good idea," he gritted his teeth and then chewed on the middle finger of his left hand.

Marissa rolled her eyes and rested her face on her own right hand, leaning in the window. "Come on, Ryan. Yesterday, you were all excited. It'll be fun – you get to see your nephew," she encouraged, her gaze drifting around the yard, which seemed a little empty for a party. "Plus, we brought cool presents," she added.

With a heavy sigh, Ryan cut the engine on the Range Rover and reached for the door handle. "Alright, let's go."

They stepped out of the car and Marissa slipped her hand into his as they approached the house. She would not worry about his connection to Cassie – she was Trey's girlfriend. She was not a threat. _Today will be good_, she told herself. She would get a glimpse into more of Ryan's past, and that was good. It would be good.

XXXXX

"This is it?" Summer asked as Seth directed his father's sports car under the "Camp Tacahoe" sign and onto the grounds of his childhood summer home.

Lush trees shaded the drive and several different birds were communicating around the car. He reached over the gear shift and took her hand, letting out a sigh of resignation. "Yes, Summer, this is it," he conceded, waiting for her to insult it's massive amounts of nature or something. This wasn't her world, and he understood that. He loved her because this wasn't her world, or in spite of the fact that it wasn't.

As they broke the plane of the trees, Summer's breath caught in her chest. It was gorgeous – so green and vibrant. And beyond the meadow, where several people their age were leaving their cars, was a glassy lake, the sun dancing over the surface and casting a surreal glow over the entire campground. A large pavilion with picnic tables, food, and drinks broke her continuous view of the lake, but welcomed them with a huge banner: Welcome Back to Tacaho.

Seth parked his car next to another sporty vehicle, and sighed as the both climbed out of the car. "This is beautiful, Cohen," Summer commented finally, slipping her hand into his. For a moment, she forgot about Sara and anything else they had argued about on the way to the camp – it was magical, romantic, almost.

A group of frat-looking guys walked past them, turning to cast a look at Summer while ignoring Seth completely. "Yep. It's good to be back," he mocked.

She squeezed his hand. It didn't matter if every guy in this camp looked her way – she didn't care. So long as one girl didn't look at her man, Summer would have a great time.

XXXXXX

"Thanks," Ryan turned to Marissa as they stood on the front porch. "For coming and everything."

She gave him her best smile and nodded. "I'm glad I could be here for you," she said, nudging his shoulder as he grasped her hand for support. "And you'll be glad you did this. Trust me."

His eyebrow shot up in a doubtful expression, but Marissa just squeezed his palm. "Alright." He raised his hand and started to knock.

But the door opened and a tall, dark-haired beauty stood in the doorway. "I wondered if you were going to sit out there all day," she laughed, pushing the screen toward them and motioning to the living room.

Ryan let go of Marissa's hand and accepted the hug that Cassie was offering him. She was his height, maybe a half inch shorter, with chin-length black hair and screaming green eyes. She was the kind of pretty that they don't put in magazines – the kind that is too normal for high fashion, but too intimidating to the average human being. And her wide smile, perfect white teeth, and the way she gripped Ryan was enough to make Marissa feel plain and invisible.

"You look amazing," Ryan complimented, blushing slightly as he looked over the woman before him. She was just wearing jeans and a wife-beater, not unlike he was, but she did wear it well. "I mean, just," he stuttered to clarify.

But Cassie made no attempt to hide it when her eyes swept over his shoulders and down to his shoes, and then traveled slowly back up to his nervous eyes. "And Trey wasn't lyin' when he said you did good for yourself, was he? Damn, Ry – you look edible," she laughed, turning and extending a hand to Marissa. "And you must be the girlfriend."

"Marissa," she introduced herself as Cassie pulled her into a hug.

"Hell, we're all family here, right?" she asked, laughing. "TJ had soccer practice this morning, so he'll be home in a little bit, just before the party starts. So, do you guys want something to drink or something?"

"Do you have tea?" Marissa asked.

Cassie nodded. "Southern Sweet Tea – is that okay?" Marissa nodded. "What about you, Ry? I got Corona with the slushy ice," she winked. "Just the way you like it."

Ryan nodded. "Sure. That'd be great. Thanks."

"Great. Make yourselves at home," she clapped her hands and started for the kitchen. "You know where everything is, Ry."

When she was gone, Marissa looked around the room, taking in the mismatched décor and the smattering of action figures that littered the carpet. She noticed the Playstation by the television, and the tower of anime dvd's and action movies. "He's definitely related to you," she commented, smiling over at Ryan.

He was leaning back on the couch, a lit cigarette in one hand and then other stretched out beside him. "Yeah, I guess," he shrugged.

Something about this Ryan, the one who was smoking and waiting for Cassie to bring him a beer, was throwing her off. This wasn't the Newport brother of Seth Cohen who escorted her to fancy parties and tapped a keg at the occasional beach-front rager. This was Ryan from Chino, the one that chilled in the afternoon with a long-neck bottle and a cigarette. This was the guy she didn't know, thought she would never meet. This was the Ryan she wasn't sure she could love.

XXXXX

After nearly twenty minutes of standing off to themselves, Summer was growing antsy. "Cohen, can't we at least get something to drink?"

He shook his head and noted the crew gathered at the pavilion. "No, Summer, we can't. Because those are the water polo players of Camp Tacaho."

"They have water polo here?"

"It was a metaphor, Summer. Look, I spent many a year getting harassed and tortured by them and I'm not really up for a rousing rendition of "Let's steal Cohen's underwear and throw them in the lake," okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on. I thought you were, like, the king of this place. You loved it here."

He nodded and looked back over the meadow. "I did love it here, because anything was good compared to Newport. Didn't mean it was easy," he admitted, his eyes lighting up as they fell on something familiar.

Summer looked out to see a tall, shapely brunette with long curls and dark-framed glasses approaching them. "There's my main man," the young woman called with a laugh, her arms open.

Seth hugged her and then held her shoulders when he pulled back. "Sara, wow," he said, looking her over. She was taller than she was at twelve. And her dark eyes danced from behind the lenses of her glasses. The braces were gone, of course.

She giggled and patted her curls. "Yeah? No more Jew-fro, right? It's amazing what anti-frizz syrum can do." She let her gaze drift over him. "And you – well, you look exactly the same, man," she nodded.

"Yeah. Taller, though," he shifted uncomfortably and took a bit of a step back.

Sara looked over Seth's shoulder and smiled at Summer. "You brought a friend?"

She sounded somewhat disappointed, which gave Summer a sense of satisfaction as he stepped forward and placed her hands on Seth's hips, leaning her chin on his shoulder. "I'm Summer," she said.

Giving her a forced smile, Sara nodded and tucked her hands into the pockets of her khakis. "So, you guys wanna get something to drink or what?"

"That would be great," Seth stated, taking Summer's hand as he followed Sara to the pavilion.

Yeah, it would be great!


	5. Who Is This Guy

Twenty minutes until party time and the guest of honor had yet to arrive. In fact, no guests had arrived. Marissa checked her watch and then threw another look at Ryan, who's arm was slung carelessly on the couch behind her. She snuggled a bit closer to his chest and he felt her hand tighten on his thigh. She was, no doubt, wondering how he could appear so comfortable here, in this place so unlike home.

Ryan reached for the cigarette pack on the coffee table and lit his third in an hour, just as Cassie stomped her fourth into the ash tray. "So, what's the real story with you and Trey?" he asked easily.

Cassie's eyes clouded and she shook her hair. "I don't know, man," she sighed, standing. "You want another beer?" Ryan shook his head and she disappeared from the room.

"Wow, you're stopping?" Marissa asked with a playful grin.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He looked to the two empty bottles on the table before them, a twinge of guilt shooting through him. "You know I drink sometimes."

She nodded and pushed her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, but not during the day usually."

"Are you worried I might have a problem?" he asked, a smile teasing his lips.

Marissa couldn't take it. He wasn't the guy she was used to, but he was the guy that had first caught her attention – at the end of the Cohen's driveway two years ago. She leaned up and took his lips in her own, thankful that this one thing still felt familiar. Over the last hour, she had listened to him talk more than he had in two years in Newport. And the swearing? She had thought Luke was bad, but Ryan didn't seem able to make it through a sentence without "fuck" when he was around Cassie.

Cassie, who just sat in her chair, smoking and laughing about all the good times they had growing up. She brought something out in Ryan that Marissa doubted she would ever be able to extract. Their relationship was definitely more comfortable now than it ever had been, but with Cassie? He was at home. He was easy. He let go of the angst and rolled with the laughs.

"Glad you came?" she asked.

He nodded and turned his eyes to the door as Cassie came back to her chair. "My mom's gonna be here any minute," she sighed, just before lighting up another cigarette. "So look out, man," she winked. Turning to Marissa, Cassie wiggled her eyebrows. "My mother is in love with Ryan."

Marissa looked adoringly at her boyfriend and touched the side of his face with her palm. "I can't imagine why," she smirked.

Ryan blushed and rolled his neck, moving from her touch. He loved Marissa – loved having her with him. But this wasn't the environment for her sweet words and her touchy-feely romance. That was the kind of shit that would get his ass kicked. "She thinks I'm the only good seed left in Chino," he shrugged.

Cassie rolled her eyes. "More like the sneakiest," she shot. "I swear, man, you pulled more shit than anyone in this town for, like, ever. You just knew how to cover it up better than the rest of us."

He felt the pride welling up inside of him again. Yeah, he had moved on up to the good life. But the fact that someone still recognized him for who he was made him feel like he hadn't completely lost his way. Cassie was a dichotomy that Ryan found he needed. She had always believed, when they were growing up, that he could be the one to get out of Chino and make good for himself. But she was still the one that believed he could be pulled back at a moment's notice, that he hadn't gone completely soft.

The door burst open before he could respond, and a blonde bundle of energy ran into the room, waving something in his hand as he rushed his mother. "Check it out, Ma," TJ grinned wildly.

"What is this?" Cassie stamped out her cigarette and took the piece of cloth from his hand. "You win this or what?"

TJ rolled his eyes and grabbed it back, gingerly dangling it between his fingers. "It's the "C." I'm the captain. The team voted and I'm the captain!"

Holding her hand up, Cassie waited for her son to smack it. "Kick ass, Beckham. Look at you," she shrieked, pulling him into a hug. "Hey," she whispered loudly into his ear. "Look who came to wish you a happy birthday."

TJ turned, his blue eyes settling on the couple resting on the couch. His mouth dropped and he laughed. "Uncle Ryan?"

He bolted across the room and Marissa was jolted to the other side of the sofa as Ryan stood to grab his nephew in a mammoth hug. "How you been, little man?"

"I'm so good," TJ nodded, showing him the "C." 

Ryan took it, sat back down, and pushed it against the boy's sleeve, holding it where it should be attached. "Looks good on ya," he nodded. He dropped the precious possession back into TJ's hands and then leaned forward to extinguish his cigarette. "So, you're havin' a birthday, huh?"

Nodding, TJ climbed onto the couch between Ryan and Marissa and turned to look at the stranger. "Who are you?"

Marissa laughed along with Ryan and Cassie and held her thin hand out. "I'm Marissa," she said.

TJ looked to his uncle for confirmation that this chick was okay. "You know this one?"

The statement, along with the feigned look of concern, made Ryan smile and nod. "She's my girlfriend," he winked.

"Ah," TJ nodded in understanding and shook Marissa's hand. "You're pretty. I like you."

Marissa laughed and thanked him as Cassie stood and brushed her hands over her jeans. "Alright, Casanova, let's go get you washed up before your friends get here." She turned to Ryan. "I think you know everybody who's comin'. Just let 'em in when they get here." And the pair was gone, leaving Ryan with his girlfriend and an awkward silence.

"I thought you hadn't seen him in four years," Marissa spoke softly, now curled onto her own end of the couch.

Ryan nodded and turned to face her. "His second birthday party," he affirmed.

"He seems to remember you pretty well for a kid who last saw you when he was two," she accused.

Ryan shrugged. "It's a long story," he sighed. She was about to say that she had time, but he shook his head. "It's better if you don't know."

She had to accept the answer as a robust woman with the same black hair as Cassie came through the door and smothered Ryan in a flurry of hugs and kisses. The nagging feeling that she was losing him wouldn't leave Marissa alone, but if there was one thing she knew, it was how to put on a happy face and enjoy a party.

XXXXX

Summer was used to boys noticing her. What she wasn't used to was Seth being too preoccupied to be worried about it. For the last half hour, a group of tall, dark, and handsomes had been ogling her in the pavilion, and all her Prince Charming could do was regal Sara with stories of his high school misadventures.

"I can't believe you actually did it, man," Sara sighed, playing with her empty punch cup on the picnic table.

Seth sighed proudly and nodded. "What can I say? The ideas were all up here," he pointed to his head.

"In the hair? Like Samson?" Sara asked and Seth laughed. Summer wanted to vomit. It wasn't even funny. Who did this chick think she was? "God. Seth Cohen created a comic book! Unbelievable. I'd love to see it sometime."

Seth looked over his shoulder to the yard, to his car. "I actually have the first issue in my car. Let me just," he turned to Summer and then back to Sara, "let me just go grab it."

And he was off. He had left her alone with this skank? Who the hell was this guy? Because he certainly wasn't her stumbly, mumbly boyfriend. When he talked to Sara, he was Mr. Confident, Mr. Commanding. She leaned on her elbows and cast another side-long glance at the boys with some interest in their eyes. All she wanted was to see that look from Seth again.

"Ya know, if you wanna go make some new friends, I can keep Seth company," Sara offered, a smirk on her lips.

Summer leveled the girl with a glare. "Oh, I'm sure you can," was all she said.

"It's just that, well, Seth and I haven't talked in a long time, and I'm sure all this comic book talk is probably boring you, right?"

Everything civil inside Summer broke as she looked across the table. Rage blackouts were her signature, and she could feel one coming on. Maybe she wasn't into everything that Cohen was, and maybe she didn't laugh at all his stupid jokes, but she was his girlfriend. And she wasn't about to lose him to someone just as dorky as he was.

"I've actually been helping Seth with the comic, thanks. And it's a graphic novel, just so you know," she dismissed.

There was an awkward silence and Summer glanced over her shoulder to see him slam the car door, said "graphic novel" in hand. Sara's voice was low and hushed when she spoke. "Look, Summer, I know what's going on here, okay? I know guys like Seth, and more specifically, I know Seth. He looks at you, or even thinks about you, and he loses his damn mind, right? He sees the boobs and the clothes and the hair, and he just forgets who he really is."

"But you know who he really is?" Summer asked skeptically.

Sara leaned forward on her elbows. "I do. And I know that guys like Seth don't get girls like you until you see the potential for dollar signs. They're just big dorks until you find out about the video game they're developing or the film they're making or the comic they're drawing. And then, suddenly, it's geek chic, he's the next Bill Gates, and you're the Supermodel Trophy Wife." She gave an evil smile. "Am I wrong?"

"Hey," Seth's voice interrupted their conversation and Summer watched as Sara's expression changed to a pleasant grin. "Look at you guys, getting to know each other, talking." He seemed to sense the tension, but in typical Cohen fashion, he let it slide. This weekend was not going to be about insecurity. He left those in Newport. "So, here's the comic," he added, sliding it across the table.

Summer stared in disbelief. What did this ho know about her relationship with Seth? And why the hell did she feel guilty? She wasn't that girl, the one that Sara had described. But, for a brief moment, Summer wondered if Seth believed it. Did he see her that way? Was that his perception? That he loved her enough to overlook the fact that she was just using him?

"I'm gonna go get more to drink," Summer mumbled, stepping away from the table. She had to convince him that she loved him, that she was with him for the right reasons. And she had to do it before they went back to Newport.


	6. You Can Take the Kid Outta Chino

_A/N: Thanks for the great reviews. I really appreciate all of them, more than you know. This story was intended to be a little bit longer, but I'm having a hard time dragging it out. One more chapter, and it'll be finished. Hopefully I'll get it posted in the next couple of days. Thanks again for the great reviews._

The air was filled with laughter and the overbearing smells of grilled food and cigarette smoke. Parents lounged in chairs and around card tables while children chased each other around the yard, and Marissa watched it all with an intense sense of longing. She had only been to one other Chino party, Theresa and Eddie's engagement soiree, and it had been just as "family friendly." Only more so, she thought, because Ryan had wanted to be there with her. Or he had wanted to drag her away to the safety of home.

Now he was standing near the fence, smoking with some guys whose names she couldn't remember, and reminiscing about his life in the old neighborhood. Something was seriously wrong with him, had been since he stepped over the threshold of this house, and she was dying to know what it was. She thought they didn't have secrets anymore, thought that their relationship was open and honest now, but Ryan was avoiding her like the plague, and her insecurities were mounting by the minute.

"Hey," Cassie's voice broke into her thoughts as she sat in the folding chair next to Marissa and offered her a beer. "I bet this isn't exactly your idea of a good time, huh?"

Marissa smiled politely, the way she had always been taught, and shrugged. "Throw in a pool and a clown with balloon animals, and it's not at all unlike my sixth birthday," she said.

Cassie nodded and let her eyes drift over the yard, resting on TJ and his group of friends, who were busying themselves with a game of "torment the little girls." She laughed as he gripped one little blonde's pigtails and yanked her to the ground. "Jesus, he's just like his father," she shook her head.

Marissa sipped from her beer and watched the kids, willing herself not to stare at her boyfriend. "So, Ryan tells me you and Trey were the "it" couple back in the day," she tried to think of anything to start a conversation with this complete stranger.

Cassie had done everything in her power to avoid the mention of Trey over the course of the afternoon, but as she lit another cigarette, she let a lazy smile take over her lips. "He was my whole world, Trey was. I would have done anything for him." She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "It's just hard when reality doesn't believe in the same forever you do, ya know?"

"But you guys are working things out now, right? I mean, Ryan said you were trying to put things back together?" Or had that just been a lie, too? More and more, over the course of the day, she was finding it harder to believe the things he told her about Chino. She had been second-guessing his recollections all afternoon.

"Right now, we're just focused on giving TJ two parents who love him and get along with each other. The rest? I don't know." She sat her beer bottle on the ground beside the chair and finally looked at Marissa. "I'm not exactly big on the trusting. I don't know what Ryan's told you, but Trey and I did just about everything you can do to ruin the trust." Her eyes clouded with what could only be described as grief. "If it weren't for TJ, I don't know if we'd have anything to say to each other anymore."

The words rattled around in Marissa's brain. If she was honest, the same thing had happened with her and Ryan. After Oliver, things had never really been the same. Sure, they'd gotten back together, but she never felt like it was as it had been before the trust was broken. Maybe that's what she was seeing today – Ryan with people he really trusted, people who had never turned their backs on him, never doubted his judgment. Maybe that's why he was so much more at ease with these people than he ever seemed with her.

"You know he loves you, right?" Cassie's words interrupted her thoughts once more. She smiled when Marissa looked at her, confused. "Ryan Atwood doesn't love lightly, and he loves you. All last summer, all he could talk about was getting back to you and that paradise you live in." She shook her head and leaned forward in her chair, her eyes resting on Ryan.

Last summer? Ryan had seen her last summer? But he had said that he hadn't seen Cassie or TJ in almost four years. "You saw him last summer?"

Cassie was still watching her young man at the fence, something unreadable in her expression. "He was living with Theresa, but things weren't so good. So, he crashed here for awhile?" she said as if trying to jog the girl's memor. But when she turned her head to see Marissa's look, realization hit her. "And he didn't tell you that, did he?" She shook her head numbly. "Look, I know that he belongs in Newport now. He knows it, too. That's his home now, with you and the Cohens. He loves all of you guys so much. You've done great things for him.

"But you gotta know that a part of him is always gonna belong here. To expect him to let go of this place is unfair, Marissa." Cassie's maternal tone was coming out now as she reached a hand over to the younger girl's arm. "Look, the guy you love? The one who's so protective and honorable and brilliant? He's only like that because he grew up here. He learned about saving damsels in distress because there were so many of us in his life. And he learned about valuing family because, as you can tell," she nodded around the yard, "it's all most of us have. He learned to work hard at school and be smart, because it was his only ticket out of this place someday."

Marissa didn't know what to say. She would never ask Ryan to give up his roots, never ask him to walk away completely. And a part of her couldn't help wondering where Cassie got the idea that she would. Her skin grew flushed as she thought about what they must have discussed last summer, after he had left Newport to help Theresa with her baby. "I want to know him, all of him," she defended. "But he doesn't let me in to that side. It's locked away, like some secret former life."

Cassie stood. "Ah, yes," she nodded. "That's the murkier, somewhat seedy side of the upbringing. The trust issues and the random acts of violence?" Marissa looked away and Cassie squeezed her shoulder. "Listen, Ryan's not so good with the sharing of the feelings, okay? Sometimes you gotta drag it out of him – and it might not be pretty and it might not be fun, but in the end? You'll have his respect, and that is a precious commodity."

Cassie ran her hands over her jeans and walked toward a group of little boys who were now moving into the "chasing girls with bugs" portion of the afternoon. Maybe she had been going at it all wrong, Marissa thought as she nursed her beer bottle and returned her attentive gaze to Ryan, who was laughing with the guys. She had been trying to give Ryan his space, to prove that she trusted him enough to keep his feelings to himself. Maybe Cassie was right – maybe she needed to force it out of him. She needed him to know that there was nothing he could tell her that would make her stop loving him.

She just hoped that it was true.

XXXXX

It was bordering on ridiculous now, the way Summer was obsessing over Seth and his little friend. She had followed him around like a sick puppy all day, watching the two of them point out their favorite spots and laugh over stupid memories from the way back. He loved her – she knew that. So why was she having such a hard time believing it?

He hadn't given her reason not to. Even while touring the campground, he held her hand when they walked, hugged her shoulders when they stopped, and kissed her temple when she said something funny. He wasn't acting weird or different, if she thought about it rationally.

But Summer wasn't in rational mode, and this Sara chick was sending out familiar vibes, ones that made Summer's stomach flip-flop. Half way through the "remember when we got stuck in the middle of the lake for the whole day" story, she realized exactly why she didn't like this girl. At all. It was Anna. Sara was Anna all over again. They had all the same interests, Seth's interests, and same way of making him laugh. They both shared this inside joke with him at the way Summer had no idea what they were talking about.

Sure, she had become friends with Anna over time, but she had never really gotten over the fact that her boyfriend and his "ex" had a bond that she would never share with him. Part of her had done the "happy dance of joy" when Anna headed back to Pittsburgh, the part that was now throwing a temper tantrum that the spirit of the ex-pixie was now embodied in someone else.

"Okay, we have a problem," Seth stated, standing from the stretch of dirt they were sharing as he checked his watch.

_Finally_, Summer thought as he helped her to her feet. "What's that?" she asked.

"Well," he turned and offered a hand to Sara. Taking Summer's hand in his, he turned in the direction of the pavilion. "It is six thirty, and they were serving dinner at five. I am now starving and there will be no tapioca pudding to fill my rumbling little stomach." He pouted in Summer's direction and she felt herself giving the first genuine smile of the day.

Running a thumb over his bottom lip, she shot him a look of mock sympathy. "We'll stop at the grocery store on the way home, and I will buy you an entire six-pack of pudding cups. How's that sound?"

"It won't be the same," Sara interjected as they rounded the backside of the pavilion and started toward the group that was gathering. A large screen had been erected at the back of the picnic area, and a slide projector was being loaded. "I hope they're gonna show the slides from the talent show. Remember, Seth, when we dressed you up like the bumble bee girl and I lip-synced to Blind Melon while you ran around and tried to tap dance?"

Seth laughed and then hung his head. "I thought we agreed never to speak of the Blind Melon incident again." Turning to Summer, he sighed. "I got my antennae ripped off that night, and my tap shoes mysteriously showed up in the lake the next day. It wasn't pretty."

For a split second, Summer felt for that Seth, the old one that kids like her used to, and still did, make fun of. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and rested her forehead against his cheek. "I have some tap shoes at home. If you want, you can do the dance for me when we get back?" Sara laughed, a bitter kind of laugh that set Summer off. "What?"

Shaking her head, the other girl just held her hands up. "Nothing. It's a nice gesture, really," she scoffed. "Except it's not that bigga deal, Summer. I mean, it was a long time ago, for one thing. And Seth's not really scarred by that kinda thing, ya know? We're stronger people than they are, emotionally, and that's how we handle the bullies and the spoiled brats, like you and your friends."

"Hey, Sara, come on," Seth stated, his hand reaching out to touch her arm.

But Summer felt the anger enveloping her already. "You don't know what you're talking about, you stupid, angry, jealous bitch." She took a step forward and tried to make herself look taller. "You don't know shit one about me, or about Seth, for that matter."

"Summer, hey," Seth reached for her, but Summer stepped out of his grasp.

"I know I was the one cheering him up while just the thought of you made him cry. I know that this thing, whatever you have, isn't gonna last. When you're not so cute anymore, Summer, he's not gonna stick around." Sara took another step closer to her opponent, ignoring Seth's pleas for them to stop making a scene. "There's no substance here," she said, tapping Summer's shoulder for affect.

A crowd had started gathering, watching the two girls argue over the most unlikely of all campers. They stared in wonder as Summer's shoulder gave under the pressure of Sara's "tap." "Are they gonna fight?" someone behind Seth asked.

He looked over his shoulder and shook his head. "No, they're not. Summer's not really what you'd call a fighter," he answered.

"Touch me again and I will show you the depth of my substance," Summer growled. "I have watched you ogle, and flirt, and drool over my boyfriend all day. I have listened to you insult my intelligence and my style and my personality, and I have stayed pretty calm. But I'm tired of being calm. And I'm tired of being nice. And I'm tired of looking at your face. So, if you have something to say to me, why don't you just get it out there."

"Fine," Sara responded. "Here's the thing, Summer. Bottom line? Seth's the coolest guy I know. And he has been, since we were nine. And the thought of some mindless, shallow, Britney wannabe sinking into his individuality makes me livid. The fact that, soon, some water polo playin' jack ass with a nice car and insipid interests in hip hop and _The Valley_ is going to swoop in and steal your attention makes me want vomit on those incredibly over-priced shoes you're sporting. You don't love him, Summer. You love having yet another groupie. . ."

She didn't get a chance to finish her sentence before Summer threw a right hook that connected with Sara's jaw and sent her flying three feet backwards. Stalking over, Summer stood with a foot on either side of the girl, who was now writhing in pain. "You're right," she shrugged. "I am shallow and I have a short attention span. And now I'm bored with you." Turning, she looked at Seth and nodded over her shoulder. "I'm going to the car."

She stalked off, feeling good for the first time since they had arrived. _Maybe_ _Chino had it right_, she thought. Solving your problems with a good crack to the jaw was way more fun than a clever quip any day.


	7. The Whole Truth

Summer had picked nearly all of the grass within her arms' reach by the time Seth finally decided to return to the car, hands in his pockets, and an indeterminable look on his face. It didn't surprise her, though she wasn't sure what she was expecting him to say. There was a good chance that he would be pretty pissed, and she wasn't convinced she could blame him. If he had laid out one of her oldest friends, she would probably have a hard time seeing it as "noble," too.

"Hey," she smiled shyly.

He gave her a little wave and lowered himself to the lawn beside her, leaning against the car for support. "So, Sara's gonna be okay. Nothing was broken. The nurse says that she'll have a pretty nasty bruise, but nothin' permanent." His voice was flat, emotionless.

"Oh," was all she said.

After an awkward pause, Seth threw his arms up. "What the hell, Summer?"

"She pissed me off," she shrugged. He raised an eyebrow and continued to stare, expecting more of an explanation. "What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? I'm not. Did you hear what she said to me?"

Seth looked back at the grass. "She wouldn't be the first person to ever call you "shallow," Summer," he said, his voice barely audible.

He was pissed. Only a pissed-off Cohen would avoid eye contact with her. "Not what she was saying about me," Summer insisted. "What she was saying about you. About us. She kept harping on how mismatched we are, how I'm not good enough for you, how you're so much stronger than I think you are."

There was hurt in his eyes when he looked glanced up. "So you punched my friend because she thinks I'm an emotionally strong person? Well, that's, um, that's quite the vote of confidence, Summer, thank you."

With a sigh, she turned her body and put a hand on his thigh. "Seth, she spent the whole day telling me how well she knows you, but she doesn't. She makes you out to be this thick-skinned, Teflon kinda guy, who just rolls with the punches and is never affected by what people think of you," she tightened her grip when he started to move away. "I'm the one who sees you shrink about three inches ever time someone calls you a dork or a loser. And I'm the one who sees you blush and cringe when some water polo jack ass start to flirt with me. I'm the one who knows you're using Atomic County as a way to cope with that hurt.

"And that guy, the one Sara doesn't see, or want to see, or whatever, is the one that I love. You're the guy that I am so obsessed with that I would skip the Festival of Fashion and punch some chick in the jaw to hold on to." She leaned her forehead against the side of his cheek. "You're the guy I love more than anything, Cohen."

He nodded and turned, giving himself some space. "And those are all very convincing arguments, and believe me, I will thank you properly when we get home. But I still don't get why you went all possessive back there. I mean, I know you guys don't exactly have a lot in common, but why would you knock her out?"

Summer rolled her eyes. She could explain women to Seth until the snow fell over Orange Country, but she doubted he would ever really grasp the basic truths. "I don't know. I mean, she just kept pushing my buttons. And there was all this stuff that she does know about you, about the stuff you like. It's like you guys have all these common interests – Bright Eyes and Batman and Resevoire Dogs and Camp Tacaho."

He nodded, his eyes waide. "Yeah, and girls," he said.

Summer's heart stopped in her chest. "What?"

Seth smirked and took his girlfriend's hand in his own, resting it against his thigh. "Summer, Sara is gay. She's a lesbian. She is not into me, at all. I mean, we're friends, but nothing else. Ever."

"Then why was she so rude to me all day?" Her brain couldn't process this new information, wouldn't accept that she hadn't know the chick she'd spent all day with was more likely to be into her than her boyfriend.

"Because she thinks your shallow? Because she doesn't like spoiled rich girls? Because you listen to Jennifer Lopez and you loved _The Notebook_? There are a plethora of reasons, Summer, but none of them have anything to do with being in love with me," he chuckled.

Suddenly, she freed her hand from his grip and smacked him in the stomach. "Why didn't you tell me that before we got here, Ass?"

"Ouch," Seth protested, standing and helping her to her feet as he unlocked the SUV. "Because I'm always the jealous, paranoid, self-doubting one? It was kind of fun to watch you struggle for awhile," he laughed, moving to the passenger's side to open her door.

Summer sank to the front seat and crossed her arms, shooting him a sideways glance. "You're not getting sex for, like, a month. You know that, right?"

He nodded and slammed the door, jogging around to the driver's side. Putting the car in gear, he tapped the beat of The Shins song that filled the car. "It means a lot to me that you did it, Summer," he said sincerely.

Rolling her eyes again, she put a hand on his leg and looked out the window as they left the campgrounds behind. "Sometimes I hate being in love with such a jack ass," she smiled.

Seth reached for the stereo and flipped the dial until some generic pop beat filled the air. He would hate it, but Summer would know all the words, and that was good enough. "Yeah, well, I kinda like bein' in love with my million dollar baby," he winked.

She scooted closer to him, but kept her gaze fixed outside. So she had been jealous. Sometimes it was okay to fight, right? As they eased onto the highway for home, she giggled. For the first time in her life, Summer realized that she had something truly worth fighting for.

XXXXX

As the sun began to set over Cassie's back yard, and the guests started to trickle out of the party, Ryan's eyes scanned the setting for his girlfriend. Marissa Cooper was not the kind of girl who just blended into this crowd. She should have been standing out like an awkward, sore thumb. But she was nowhere to be seen.

"She's inside," Cassie whispered as she moved behind him with a bowl of potato chips, headed for the kitchen. "She had a headache, so she's layin' in my bed."

Ryan nodded and made his way for the house. He had spent an entire day avoiding her, trying to segregate his life into two very separate parts. Blending the two blurred lines that he wasn't ready to decipher just yet. Making his way to the bedroom, he knocked on the door and then peeked in to find Marissa rocking back and forth, her knees hugged to her chest as she stared at some nondescript point on the comforter. "Hey," he greeted.

Her eyes darted to him and then back to the bed. "Hey."

Dropping to the bed, he reached for her knee. He was in no mood to console her, but since they would be stuck in a car together for the next hour, he would make the effort to smooth things over. "You pissed?" He asked when she drew away.

She shrugged. "Confused," she said. "You lied to me. You said that you spent all last summer working and helping Theresa get ready for the baby. You said that you didn't even see any of your old friends that much. And you said that you hadn't seen TJ since he was two. But Cassie says that you lived here, with her, until, like, August," she accused, turning her eyes to him. "Why the hell would you lie to me?"

Ryan leaned back against the headboard and wished for a cigarette. "Because it was easier than telling you the truth," he admitted easily. _No point in lying more_, he guessed. "Look, this place takes me back to the days when people were on a "need to know" basis, and sometimes I think it's just better that way."

"So you didn't think I needed to know?" she asked, tears building, threatening, as she fought to push them down.

"No," he shrugged. "It didn't matter. I mean, what I did here didn't have anything to do with us."

"How can you say that?" Marissa asked, turning her body toward him. She had thought that it would be harder to pick a fight with him, but the less he told her, the easier it was to raise her voice, to speak her mind. "Everything that happens here has something to do with us. Our relationship is just the sum total of our individual experiences, Ryan."

He raised an eyebrow and smiled. "What? Who talks like that?"

But Marissa wasn't joking and the smile only fueled her rising anger. "Look, you got pissed at me when you got back and I didn't tell you about DJ. And now you're gonna sit there, knowing that you lied to me, and pretend like it was no big deal?"

"It's not a big deal. You don't get it, Marissa. You've spent a total of two days in Chino your entire life. It's not what you think it is. Or what you don't think it is. You don't know. You don't even know me," he shot back, his own anger starting to bubble.

"Because you won't tell me the truth. You never talk about it. It's like you wanna shut me out of this part of your life. And I don't even know why you don't trust me enough to tell me the fucking truth!" She rolled off the bed and stood, hands on her hips.

He jumped to the other side of the bed, his face reddening. "You don't want to know the truth, Marissa. You don't wanna know what I was like here because I'm not the hero that you need me to be," he accused.

"All I need, Ryan, is for you to treat me like an intelligent human being. Dammit! Everyone thinks they know what's best for me. They put on the kid gloves and they treat me like I'm made of fuckin' glass, like I can't figure anything out for myself. What I need is for you to not be another one of those people in my life. Give the truth, dammit, even if it breaks me," she pleaded.

Anyone passing through the house could hear them, Ryan knew, but he didn't care anymore. "Fine! The truth is that I did a shitload of stuff last summer that I am not proud of, okay? I did shit that I thought I would never do. You want the list?" She nodded and crossed her arms over her chest, as if steeling herself for the response. "I drank more than you could dream of consuming in a ten lifetimes, and I did enough cocaine to kill a damn horse." His voice was shaking, but his eyes said that he didn't appreciate being pushed to this place, especially by her. "I beat the shit outta some asshole at a party just because it felt good to hit someone until they stopped fighting back."

"So?" Marissa shrugged. "You lied to me because you drank and did some drugs? Have you met me?" she asked. There was more – she could see it just under the surface. But she couldn't get to it, couldn't reach him there. And it only made her that much more determined.

"I did it because of you, Marissa. Dammit!" He deflated and sank to the bed. The confusion and anger in her eyes melted into hurt and he couldn't take it. This is exactly why he hadn't wanted to tell her anything about the past summer in the first place. "Because I wanted you here with me. Because I was too fuckin' weak to handle all the pressure of being a dad at seventeen. But I didn't have the balls to pick up the fuckin' phone and tell you that. So I tried to replace you, forget you."

Cassie had been right. _This is not fun_, Marissa thought as she sat back down. "What about Cassie?"

He just nodded and looked at his shoes, his back to her. "Yeah," he confirmed her suspicions. "Look, all I wanted was something to take away the numb feeling I had with Theresa. I wanted it to be like it used to be, when I could just fuck someone to feel and not worry about regrets or emotions. I wanted to be Trey, to do what I wanted for me and not give another fuckin' thought to anyone or anything else."

Marissa felt her chest tightening and her breath growing short. He slept with Cassie. To get her out of his head, he had slept with another woman. And not just any other woman, but one who knew him better than anyone else. "Did it work? Cassie?" she asked, not sure why she needed to know.

He sighed. How did she do this to him? She could work a wordy confession out of his determined silence better than anyone. And when her shoulders sagged and her voice took on that vulnerable wobble, his heart wanted to surrender its deepest and darkest secrets. And try as he might, he couldn't hate her for it. "For awhile. When I could close my eyes and pretend it wasn't her."

Taking a deep breath, Marissa twisted her fingers and looked at him through wet eyes. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

He turned and shrugged. "I didn't think it would help anything," he admitted. "Marissa," he breathed. He moved toward her on the bed, his hand reaching for her shoulder. "As soon as Theresa told me that she lost the baby, I left this place behind. Without a second thought." He could feel her sharp intake of breath when he pulled her back to his chest and leaned over. His lips brushed her ear when he spoke. "I left it for you. For us."

She knew that was a lie, too. He left Chino because there were more opportunities for his future in Newport. But it was a lie that she could accept, mostly because she thought he might actually believe it. "Look, this place is a part of you," she turned in his arms and put a palm against his cheek. "I get that now. And if we're gonna make this work, you and me? You're gonna have to let me know this side of you, too. Because I can't love you if I only know half the story."

He nodded and rested his forehead against hers. "And if you don't like this guy? The Chino jack ass?"

She smiled, playing the hairs on the back of his neck. "You forget that this guy, the Chino jack ass? He's the one that gave me a cigarette and a cheesy pick up line at the end of the Cohens' driveway two years ago. This," she kissed his nose, "is the guy I crushed out on in the first place."

His lips found hers and he laid her back on the bed. "We're gonna hit rush hour if we don't make this quick," he warned as his hands made their way under the hem of her tee shirt.

But she smacked him away and struggled to sit up. "No, we're not. Because we are not doin' anything right now." She stood and offered him a hand. When he didn't move, she motioned to the bed. "Don't look at me like that. You fucked your nephew's mom on that bed. You don't get us both here."

He just rolled his eyes and stood, taking her hand and following her from the room. Maybe she would discover something she hated later down the road. But for now, Ryan was going to give Marissa what she wanted – the truth, or enough of it to appease her curiosity while still protecting her heart.

XXXXX

"Sum, I can't believe you actually got into a fight," Marissa gasped as the foursome sat around the pool house Sunday afternoon, sharing tales of their trips down memory lane.

"Yeah, well, someone's gotta have Cohen's back. And since Ryan was off in Chino, playing "family man" or whatever, I was the next in line," Summer beamed, smiling at Seth.

He blushed and trapped her hands in his. "Thank you. I don't know if it makes me cooler because my girlfriend loves me enough to get in fights over me. Or if I'm just a bigger loser because my girlfriend fights to defend my honor," he questioned.

"Seriously, man," Ryan leaned close to Marissa and rested his chin on her shoulder as she reclined in his arms on the bed, "Did you know she was gay before Summer hit her?" He had a feeling Seth wouldn't know gay from straight if it wasn't spelled out for him.

Seth nodded. "I swear to God. She told me when we were twelve, but she swore me to secrecy," he raised a hand and then shrugged when they all looked at him skeptically. "Fine, whatever, don't believe me. I don't care. So, Ryan, you up for a little ninja warrior action?" he asked, reaching for the Playstation controls at the foot of the bed.

As Ryan released his grip on his girlfriend, Sandy and Kirsten stood at the grill, one eye on their kids and the other on their dinner. "So Summer got into a fight with Seth's gay friend from camp and Marissa found out that Ryan slept with his brother's ex-girlfriend last summer? How do you get this information?"

Kirsten shrugged and pushed herself off the ledge beside the grill. "There are many good reasons for a mother to befriend her sons' girlfriends," she winked.

Sandy shook his head. "You are amazing," he smiled, casting a final glance at the pool house. "You think they'll ever make it through two straight days without any drama?" Sandy asked.

Kirsten wrapped her arms around her husband's shoulders and rested her head against his back. "No," she answered, dropping a kiss on his neck before she retrieved her wine glass from the nearby table. "But it wouldn't really be the OC if they did."

End.

_A/N: I'm really sorry if this ending seems kind of abrupt. I was just having a really hard time with this story - it didn't seem to want to be told anymore. I hope I gave it enough closure for all of you who are so great to read and review it for me. Next up is probably the sequel to Rock Bottom, since people have been asking for that. And maybe a short Seth/Summer story, too. Thanks again for reading - you guys are the best._


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